She nods in agreement to her. Letting the Countess speak, letting Beth make up her mind of herself. A mind keen to weapons, she smiles however slightly to herself in a flicker she smothers down.

She liked Beth, clever girl that she was. For all she looked like petals and glass and sung like a bird on a wire. Thought her the good victorian lady, to look at her. Sweet in her tower, repulsed by the notion of violence. But she'd gotten those scratches on her brow for good reason, it seemed, and it wasn't laying down to other people's cruelties.

But the Countess was right, she needed to know. "These sort of games, men and women both lose their lives over. I know that you are American and they have done away with much of it, but you should know it can cost you everything as well."